Sinful Wrath
by pledgeking23
Summary: How will the wizarding world react to the arrival of the Wretched Egg and what will this mean for the boy who lived?Warning contains spoilers for Deadman Wonderland/Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note**: well this is it I'm new to writing fan fiction I just hope I don't suck to bad ha! No flames but constructive criticism is appreciated please read and review.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Deadman Wonderland or Harry potter they belong to their respective owners so please don't sue I'm broke anyway. Warning: This story features strong swearing, blood & gore, spoilers, and large amounts of noob style writing.

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"Shiro" is _dead._ The anger, and despair expressed on his face that was caused by my words…truly sickening. But it doesn't matter the lullaby beckons me to sleep me. With barely a flick of my wrist the signature swirl like pattern that all branches of sin take rushed at him in a tornado of blood impacting the already rubble covered battleground collapsing the ground underneath him and sending him falling to his doom. Kissh how disappointing whoosh smash! The boy no Ganta's branch of sin had rushed at him impacting and dislodging the helmet from my face revealing my long white curtain of hair to his flabbergasted stare. The fool what is he so surprised about?

The surprise attack from the bullet of blood launched at me knocked me from my perch in the sky. Sleepy that gentle lullaby emitting from that damn contraption forced my eye lids to steadily close. Unseen by the red cloaked terror free falling into the dark crater that was blown in by the earlier the show of force, a flash of crimson flashed across the sky taking the Wretched Egg with it.

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Elsewhere in a circular room sitting in a chair petting his beloved snake Nagini the Dark lord Voldemort plans on how to wipeout all of those disgusting muggles and mudbloods While watching his loyal death eaters preparing a dark ritual to summon a weapon to wipe out his enemies once and for all. A rat face man rushes through the doors and kneels before his lord. Wormtail rise hold out your arm Voldemort commands he takes one look at the silver hand of glory snarls in disapproval your other arm. Wormtail whimpers in fear as his lord pulls out a serrated dagger from inside his cloak. Hadn't he been a good servant so why was he being the one to sacrifice his blood again?

Calm yourself Wormtail Lord Voldemort rewards those who suffer for my cause. And with a resounding shink he began carving into the offered arm that is currently bleeding into the circle of runes carved into the floor. Deeper the blade digs and cuts past veins as they pop and twist from the force of the knife past tendons as his arm becomes useless Wormtail shrieks in pain. Might as well go all the way to make sure the summoning ritual is a success Voldemort thinks to himself and with a sick plop the bloodied arm falls to the ground lifeblood flowing into the circle of runes. Bellatrix place him into the circle orders Voldemort. Yes my lord with an insane cackle she levitates Wormtail's body into the center and places the limp body down and retreats into the row of death eaters who are preparing themselves to chant the words that will activated the summoning.

As Voldemort approaches the edge of the circle he states finally this war will end in our favor begin the ritual as his death eaters began to chant the candles flicker and waver before being snuffed out casting the chamber in complete darkness as the death eater continue their chanting the candles burst back to life. Lord Voldemort walks slowly to the edge and pours a cup worth of blood on to the floor to mangle and mix with the already spilled blood. Odd purple colored octagons spin slowly in the circle the spinning slowly picks up reducing the unconscious Wormtail`s body into a bloody soup.

The octagons are soon joined with trails of swirling blood that block the center from view. The wind kicked up from the revolutions soon recedes. The room full of tense death eaters wait with baited breath to see the result of the ritual because if it didn't work there would be hell to pay. The smirk full of victory that Lord Voldemort had on his face changes to a snarl of rage for a red cloaked figure with hair as pale her skin looked back at him with curious red eyes.

Elsewhere a green eyed teen with a lightning bolt shaped scar awakens in a panic scar bleeding visibly into the white of the pillowcase from his latest vision of the dark lord.

**AN**: And that was the prologue hope it wasn't to dreadful, sorry about the shortness any concerns or ideas please post them in the comments please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes**: holy shit it's been a while but sometimes this happens when real life kicks your ass also while I'm at it Happy Thanksgiving. Now this story does take place during Harry's 5th year in Order of the Phoenix. And before we start this thing sorry about making any grammar/punctuation mistakes I will try to get better at that.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

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Harry Potter woke up with a gasp in the Gryffindor dorm in a puddle of his own sweat. He doubted that he would get anymore sleep before it was time to get dressed for breakfast. That and Ron's increasingly loud snoring was certainly not helping, was the thought that went through the boy who lived head as he made his way down to the common room.

He gave a weary sigh as he sat in a chair in front of the fire place. Another sick vision that he'd like to just forget about to pretend that it was a dream and nothing but a dream. Unfortunately he was smarter than most people would give him credit for. He knew ignoring whatever had transpired wouldn't be the smartest course of action to take, not when it involved Voldemort he thought as he slipped into an uncomfortable sleep.

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Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort as he was most known as was a very patient man; he would have to be considering he had been defeated by a mere toddler ,then being reduced to a powerless state after said defeat, not to mention finally acquiring his body at that graveyard not so long ago. So as he watched the result of his failed summoning ritual, his only thought was **where is my weapon!**? With a furious flick of his wand he cast a silent _protégo_ spell to protect himself from Wormtail's almost unrecognizable corpse that was sent flying toward him from the strong unnatural winds. With a snarl he ordered his death eaters to attack this foe that was clearly a threat.

The air was filled with the flying of curses and hexes designed with no other purpose but to kill or maim. Holes blasted into walls anything of any real importance turned into rubble. Amidst the chaos the red cloaked figure continued to manipulate her blood to form the same tornado like winds that murdered so many people before. The majority of spells were deflected some making it through to her. Those that did make it through the winds either left burns or fractured bones all of which healed quick enough so as not to be a hindrance. She didn't make a sound as she was bombarded with light after light in different colors.

Shiro or Wretched Egg as she is known as at the moment took steady steps forward. Feet taking steps over bodies that littered the floor their faces twisted into expressions of shock and pain. She didn't care it was their fault for putting themselves in such a situation. She would find out went wrong she'd find out what interrupted her chance of killing that weakling Ganta, that weakling that she went through the trouble of giving some of her power to in order to make him her equal.

Voldemort watched as the red cloaked figure approached him almost casually in the now mostly empty chamber now turned battle ground. Those of his Deatheaters that weren't dead, on the ground whimpering from loss of limbs had either apparated to another location, or were remaining hidden behind rubble looking for an opportunity to attack.

Voldemort decided that this stranger had gone on long enough making a mockery out of his foot soldiers. He spread his arms as if welcoming this new threat into his presence "what do I owe to this most pleasant of greetings" he asked with an arrogant look on his snake like face. This look turned into one of rage as he was forced to apparated or risk becoming a bloody smear on the ground like so many of his Deatheaters before him. "And what curios magic that you seem to favor using" Voldemort stated.

Between the other hers attempts to force her mind into the backseat and the man who looked like a snakes gibberish her patience was wearing thin she would erase this man from existence an be on her way. Blood burst from her body the original sin preparing to cut into him like the scientist had done to her when she detected movement from the side of her red eyes.

The nameless Deatheater who wasn't insane enough to take the red menace on while he watched his comrades die around him, was slowly edging into a position to possibly cut this monster down before it could catch sight of. He fired a _stupefy_ spell from his wand while his dark lord was stroking his own ego, It was probably the only thing that saved their lives that night, Deatheaters are known for casting mainly unforgivable curses. The nameless Deatheater watched in shock as what was supposed to be his last stand impacted the red cloaked figure sending it face first out cold before the Dark lord.

Well it seems that not all of my Deatheaters are as incompetent as he had thought they were he thought as he looked at what more than thirty of his loyal pawns failed to do.

**AN**: That was chapter 2 other characters from Deadman Wonderland will possibly be making appearances in future chapters. Next chapter will also mark the beginning of finally moving on to Hogwarts. Sorry that this chapter wasn't dialogue heavy next chap should be. Don't forget to read and review.


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